


Go Out With a Bang (Since We're to Wilt Anyway)

by KXL (MissKXL)



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Gen, Hanahaki Disease, I don't know if you can tell but I have no clue how formatting works on this site, M/M, Slow Burn, implied relationships are because Kaito's in hella denial, this is really less of a hanahaki fic and more of a fic w hanahaki in it whoops, you can pinpoint the exact moment I gave up in the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 17:42:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11514273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissKXL/pseuds/KXL
Summary: Love can be cruel, and painful, but Kaito knew that already. Maybe he's just a masochist.





	Go Out With a Bang (Since We're to Wilt Anyway)

**Author's Note:**

> I've wondered for years how I would introduce the first work I ever publish online. Would I scream like a child? Celebrate? Try to play it cool? I've pictured them all, yet now that I'm here, I no longer know what I should say.  
> This fic happened because [aleja](http://aleja363.tumblr.com/) reblogged a [ certain image](http://aleja363.tumblr.com/post/162527351307/tortureddove-9%E6%9C%8810%E6%97%A5%E3%81%AF%E5%B7%A5%E8%97%A4%E3%81%AE%E6%97%A5%E3%83%AD%E3%82%B0%E3%81%BE%E3%81%A8%E3%82%8121-pixiv-id) and we spoke a bit and now you're here, about to read this. I'm grateful you've taken the time to give this a try.  
> There will be other notes at the end, but for now, please enjoy.

The child infuriates him in a way no child – no person – has ever infuriated him before. 

Kaito had found his plan to scope out Suzuki’s pearl thwarted, not by his specialized task force or a trained detective or even one of Snake’s henchmen, but a child. A mere boy, no older than seven, launching fireworks in the sky with childish glee. Kaito could tell from the start that the boy is a liar, just like the phantom thief. The innocent act was truly just an act, not a show of bravado in the face of an international criminal nor a ploy to gain pity – no, the act was just an act, because when the boy faced Kaito and introduced himself as a detective the mask had slipped off, and in that boy’s expression had been intelligence and cockiness and certainly not the naivety of a regular elementary school brat. And when he had spoken, he had done so with the assured air of a hunter beholding a tiger trapped in a cage.

It had been worth surprising the child, reminding him that tigers have fangs whether they’re chained or not. Still, Kaito had been forced to flee earlier than he’d expected, and he had left with a vague sense of foreboding. The child is bad news, and as much as he had wanted to dismiss the thought as silly – no older than seven, Kaito, just a brat playing detective – he had somehow known that he would see that boy again.

Therefore, he had not been altogether surprised when, after he had finally secured the Black Star, the boy confronted him once more. He was frightening, that child; one moment he was speaking to his “Nee-chan” with a simplicity befitting his years, the next studying his surroundings with a practiced analytic eye, and the next presenting deductions to a phantom thief as though they were equals.

Unbidden, a shadow of a smirk rises to Kaito’s face. It isn’t “as though” they are equals. No, the child infuriates him, and anyone who can infuriate the masterful Kaitou KID is Kaito’s equal in his book.

The brief moment of respect vanishes when Kaito sneezes for the umpteenth time in an hour. Equals or not, scarily smart or not, the brat is a real brat.

\--

They clash irregularly. Sometimes Kaito goes months without seeing Conan, during which the success rate for his heists skyrocket. Sometimes Conan appears at the last second, and Kaito’s carefully thought out plans have to be shelved in favor of something too exciting and unpredictable for the boy to immediately see through. Sometimes, most often when Suzuki is involved, Conan is there from the get-go, and Kaito always returns from those heists exhausted and frazzled and often injured, because Conan had both a crazy soccer-ball-belt and the skill to effectively use it to bruise the hell out of Kaito’s body.

But sometimes they meet outside of hullabaloo of heists. Kaito remembers those chance encounters fondly. When forced to cooperate, the two of them make an eerily excellent team. Kaito provides sleight of hand, skill, and distraction; Conan provides observations and deductions. Together, they crack the uncrackable, solve the unsolvable, fool the unfoolable. It’s a rush, teaming up with such a formidable person who is an ally one day and an enemy the next. And Kaito is not a person who passes up a rush.

He starts looking forward to seeing the boy even at heists. Having him there is tiring, but it’s also so much more fun. Makes his revenge crusade just that little bit more interesting.

\--

It’s a simple throwaway remark on Conan’s part and a brief moment of idle curiosity on Kaito’s that leads to the phantom thief discovering the truth.

It isn’t as though Kaito hasn’t had his suspicions before. He knows that Conan has a professor friend that makes him all sorts of unholy gadgets, like the tranquilizer dart in his wristwatch or the shoes that amplify his kicking power, and he also knows that no seven-year-old should ever be in need of super-powered shoes or tranquilizer (except given the frankly horrifying rate at which the boy runs across criminal cases…but even then he’s got that hellish soccer ball of his, so yeah, tranquilizer is a bit much). He knows that the boy impersonates others to solve cases – he’s seen if firsthand with the Suzuki heiress, and he assumes that the secret behind the “Sleeping Kogoro” wears overlarge glasses and a bowtie (which explains the tranquilizer, but that just begs the question of how Detective Mouri isn’t dead yet or something).

Still, when Conan had let slip that his professor friend doesn’t call him “Conan-kun” in private, Kaito had placed bugs in the professor’s house with only mild interest and no nefarious intentions. He had just wanted to know. The boy’s a mystery as well as a terrifying hell-spawn. Of course Kaito’s curious.

A few days later, Kaito sits down at his laptop and pulls up the bug and proceeds to drop his cup of cocoa as the professor calls Conan “Shinichi-kun.” He then bangs his head on the desk rather painfully while he’s cleaning up the mess when the creepy little girl calls him “Kudou-kun.”

It takes Kaito all of ten minutes to look into Shinichi Kudou, famous high school detective. The news articles on him are extensive, though the recent ones all seem to focus less on his prowess as a detective and more on his current whereabouts, as he hasn’t been seen in public for several months.

Kaito stares at his laptop for a solid eight minutes before he deactivates the bugs in the professor’s house with a few clicks of his mouse. He almost feels guilty; he’d accidentally figured out everything without the boy’s consent. 

At the next heist Conan nails him with a soccer ball to the face. It takes all the makeup in Kaito’s arsenal to hide the bruise. Kaito calls it even with that. 

\--

Thankfully, the snipers at the next heist fail to injure anyone besides Kaito. They don’t even bother trying to aim for Conan, who had been standing right next to him when the first bullets began raining down. So that’s a plus.

Kaito deals with them with perhaps a shade less than his usual finesse, but he blames that both on the bullet that had grazed his arm and Conan’s unwavering gaze on him. He finds it difficult to concentrate when the boy stares like that, knowing what he knows now. It had been easier when the too-smart boy was just a too-smart boy. Now the too-smart boy is a famous too-smart teenager who has magically shaved ten years off of his age, and somehow that’s much worse. Maybe Kaito, despite thinking of them as equals, has never really thought of them as equals.

The boy watches Kaito as he avoids the snipers, traps them in a makeshift net, and hangs them in a conspicuous place for the police to find. He doesn’t say a word. Normally Kaito would find that disturbing and take it as a sign that he should flee the scene as fast as he possibly can, but what he sees in Conan’s face is not his usual accusatory suspicion of KID. It’s something deeper, darker, and it doesn’t seem to be aimed at Kaito.

\--

He only puts up a token protest when Conan follows him after the heist.

\--

“Kuroba.” Conan reads the name on Kaito’s nameplate aloud as he follows the phantom thief inside. “…. Your father was Toichi Kuroba.”

“Yeah.” Kaito doesn’t bother trying to keep Conan out of his house. The boy would follow whether Kaito approves or not. Conan seems somewhat surprised by the great Kaitou KID’s sudden lack of resistance, but Kaito’s arm is starting to bleed rather heavily and he’s tired of having to keep up the charade of disliking the boy. He has too much respect for Conan now, and the mini-detective doesn’t seem to want to arrest him, so for all Kaito cares, the guy can do what he wants.

Conan waits in the living room while Kaito collects his emergency medical supplies from the bathroom. He then kneels next to Kaito on the couch and helps him treat his arm, keeping pressure on the wound while the magician juggles bandages and disinfectant with his good arm. They work in total silence, marred only by slight intakes of breath on Kaito’s part when the disinfectant hits the open gash. Thankfully, it isn’t serious enough to warrant a secret hospital visit.

Once the long bandage is wrapped securely around Kaito’s arm, Conan leans forward and begins without preamble. “Who are those men at your heists?”

“Spoilsports,” Kaito replies promptly.

“I’m serious, KID.” Conan arrests Kaito’s gaze with his own. Underneath the cool façade that the detective seems to have perfected, Kaito detects a hint of genuine concern. He’s touched. “Those were professional snipers shooting to kill. This isn’t the first time they’ve appeared at your heists. Why are they trying to kill you?”

Kaito regards Conan impassively for a moment. “First,” he eventually answers, “you can call me ‘Kuroba.’ You’re in my house and know my name now, so you have my permission to use it.”

Conan stares at him for a moment before jerking his head once.

“Second, you’re the detective, so you probably already know, right?”

The detective clicks his tongue. “I have guesses, KI – Kuroba. Nothing concrete and no hard evidence.”

“You’re smart. Chances are, your guesses are right.” Kaito leans back, lets his head rest lightly against the wall. The post-heist fatigue is starting to set in. “You tell me what you think, and I’ll tell you if you’re right or not.”

Kaito listens as Conan shifts on the couch, and then as the boy states, “You’re looking for something. They’re looking for it, too. They’re trying to kill you so that you can’t find it, or so that they can find it first.”

“Correct.”

“…. Your father was the original Kaitou KID. His death wasn’t an accident.”

“Also correct.” Kaito doesn’t quite like how the detective treats his father’s murder with such clinical detachment. He lets it slide anyway. Conan’s on a deduction roll; best not to interrupt him.

“They must have connections all over the city, if they can openly attack you in public like that.” The boy’s voice is slowly morphing from annoyance into thoughtfulness. “And they’re organized – there were at least three snipers tonight. They may have ties with gangs all over Japan.”

“Probably.” Kaito twists his neck to stare at Conan, who is now contemplating something in his head with a surprisingly fierce expression. “What are you thinking, detective?”

Conan doesn’t look up from his thoughts.

“Detective?”

Conan blinks. And then he smiles.

Kaito recognizes that smile. He’s seen it on the detective’s face when he exposes criminals, or when he’s face-to-face with Kaitou KID, or when he’s just figured out the essential clue to crack a case. Right now, Kaito isn’t sure if that smile is good news or bad news for him.

“KI – Kuroba.”

“Yes, detective?”

“I think you and I have a lot to discuss.”

\--

They talk until the sun is high in the sky. They part ways as allies for good. Kaito is rather pleased at that.

\--

Having Kudou as a friend is so incredibly freeing.

To his classmates, Kaito is the always-smiling prankster. To Aoko, Kaito is the sometimes-insufferable best friend with a penchant for magic and making strangers happy. To Hakuba, Kaito is evasive, guard always up to avoid being revealed. To Akako, Kaito is…well, even he isn’t sure how to act around her, but he’s usually too skittish to really act like himself.

And of course, to the world at large Kaito is the unflappable Kaitou KID, magician and phantom thief extraordinaire, always wearing an enigmatic smile no matter the circumstances.

They’re all Kaito, but none of them are all of Kaito. Sooner or later, they all feel like masks, mere shards of the whole that is Kaito Kuroba. He never feels like he can be truly himself around anyone.

Except Kudou.

Kudou is a kindred spirit. He wears his masks just like Kaito does, to the point where they become a second skin instead of a front, but around each other the masks become unimportant. Kaito can discard the cheap exaggerations of his true personality and be Kaito. He can be mysterious while joking around, evasive and blunt, and Kudou doesn’t care because Kudou has his own problems, too. They’re both worn at the edges, exhausted from living lies, but when they’re together they can take a quick breather, and to Kaito, that means quite a lot.

Kudou barges into Kaito’s house for the third time in two weeks, complaining loudly about something involving hair dryers and iron. Kaito notices how Kudou’s shoulders relax the second the door swings shut behind him. It must mean quite a lot to the detective, too.

\--

Building up a relationship isn’t difficult, though Kaito hadn’t necessarily expected difficulty. They both already know how well they worked together; realizing that their biggest enemies are linked just gives them another springboard to launch into an alliance.

They only ever meet at Kaito’s house for a while. They can’t use Kudou’s real house, because according to the detective there’s someone living there who’s in hiding from Kudou’s Organization. Kaito’s seen him around once or twice, the light-haired man with glasses and a face so impassive Kaito is almost positive he’s wearing a latex mask or something. He’s more than fine avoiding that guy.

The professor’s house is also off-limits, because although Kaito is comfortable revealing his identity to the shrunken detective, the professor and the creepy little girl are other matters entirely. And, according to Kudou, the creepy little girl had found one of Kaito’s bugs and “is probably going to try and kill you the next time she sees you,” which shouldn’t sound threatening when spoken by a seven-year-old drinking orange juice at Kaito’s dinner table, but Kaito’s certain that the creepy little girl is going to make good on that promise and he definitely feels a chill.

After a few weeks of building a rapport and preliminary planning, Kaito slowly starts integrating himself into “Conan’s” life, and that goes pretty smoothly, too. All he has to do is walk into the café underneath the Mouri Detective Agency while the Mouris are there, perform a few magic tricks for a theatrically awed Conan, and neither of the Mouris bat an eye from there when Kaito stops by every now and then to say hi. Kaito even brings Aoko with him sometimes, and she and the Mouri girl hit it off fantastically. Mostly by verbally bashing their childhood friends. 

It’s almost scary how well Kaito and Kudou are able to slip into each other’s lives.

Almost, because when Kaito and Kudou have their heads bent over Kaito’s laptop and argue about the Holmes versus Lupin stories, it just feels too natural, too right to be anything scary.

\--

Kudou helps Kaito pick which gems to target now, and Kaito is more than glad for the assistance. Researching gems that are both big enough and old enough to house the legendary Pandora can be a hassle sometimes, especially since Kaito’s targeted most of the candidates currently in Japan. Kudou helps eliminate some that are out of the country, pinpoints a few that Kaito’s missed, and it’s all-around such a nice gesture that Kaito has to pick him up and hug him once.

(Only once, though, because Kudou kicks him in the stomach and even without his crazy shoes on it hurts.)

Kudou is still called out sometimes to assist the police or Suzuki when Kaito announces a new heist – just because they’ve become allies doesn’t mean the title of “Kid Killer” will go away. Kudou plays his part convincingly, acting like he’s figured out his tricks a step too late and allowing KID to escape just long enough to check his target for Pandora. Even when they’re on opposite sides, they still make a good team.

Kaito, in return, helps Kudou come up with excuses to get away from the Mouris and gives him some spare gadgets of his own to help chase down bad guys. Kudou gets a lot of mileage out of the remote-activated smoke bombs. (And yeah, he does endure a lecture from the Mouri girl about giving a child smoke bombs, but hey, Kudou caught the criminal with them, so he just smiles and nods and packs a few extra in the detective’s backpack the next time he drops by.)

Kaito also listens to Kudou when he calls at an ungodly time to rant about some murder case or another, because hey, what are friends for? 

\--

A few months into their partnership, Kudou discovers a branch location of his Organization’s headquarters. He and Kaito spend an entire week planning their entrance and exit routes, hacking in and analyzing the security’s patrol patterns, deducing where valuable information might be held, and generally gearing up for a direct raid on a group of incredibly dangerous individuals. Kaito dares to venture over to the professor’s house to meet up with Kudou before they leave, and even though he knows the detective hadn’t told the creepy little girl anything about their plan, he spies her standing on the landing and knows that she’s fully aware they’re going out on a suicide mission. He tries to gesture to her that it’ll be all right, they’ll be watching each other’s backs. She responds with the single coldest stare he’s ever received. He leaves feeling grateful she hadn’t attempted to kill him like she’d promised.

They go in, and thanks to their detailed planning, they make it pretty high into the building before someone raises the alarm. They don’t make it to the top – the security is too high to break through with their limited time and resources – but they do make it into an office with a bunch of computers and filing cabinets, and an office with a bunch of computers and filing cabinets is bound to contain crucial information of some kind. Kaito takes up a position by the door and causes general havoc in the vicinity to keep their pursuers at bay while Kudou rifles through folders at lightning speed (Kaito can’t even keep track of his hands, how does he read so fast?)

Escaping the building is a blur of smoke and muffled gunfire and sprinting through seemingly endless corridors, but with some quick thinking on Kaito’s part and a few well-timed kicks on Kudou’s, they make it out in one piece. They split apart as soon as they can, taking separate routes to their respective homes while promising to meet up the following day.

Kaito only notices the files that Kudou stole from the office when the smaller is already halfway down the street, tucked securely in his tiny arms. He hopes their gamble has been worth it.

\--

Kudou calls the next day. The gamble had definitely been worth it.

\--

Two weeks later, when Kaito goes to answer his door, the now-returned Shinichi Kudou brushes past him with a cup of takeout coffee in one hand and a folder containing information on Pandora in the other. 

\--

The fact that Shinichi Kudou has returned is kept a secret to all but a few people. Kaito gets it; they may have gotten some nice info from that Organization building and managed to reverse-engineer an antidote to whatever insane poison Kudou had been force-fed, but the bad guys are still at large. Kaito had even wondered if taking the antidote was a good idea – it would be safer for Kudou to keep hiding out as Conan until everyone bad was behind bars – but Kudou had retorted that he had been stuck as a child for long enough, he didn’t care if it was safer, he was Shinichi and not Conan and he was sick of living a lie.

Kaito understands that sentiment, if nothing else, so he had backed off after that.

The first person Shinichi tells about his return is his not-girlfriend Mouri. He tells her everything, about being Conan and hiding from a criminal organization and the lies, all the lies he had piled on her. Kaito isn’t around when the call actually takes place, but he can tell it could’ve gone better. Kudou walks into Kaito’s place with hooded eyes and a shrug, mumbling something about needing time, and the magician knows better than to stick his nose into that can of worms.

The FBI finds out, too, and every so often one of them pops by Kaito’s place with Kudou. The thief’s skin crawls whenever they come. He always makes sure to position himself in a way so that none of them can even come close to his secret room. The most frequent visitor is a young blonde lady, and from talking with her Kaito learns quite a bit about Kudou’s escapades with the FBI. (He spends the next few days wondering aloud about how the FBI allowed a seven-year-old to help them harbor a dangerous high-ranking member of the Organization and interrogate suspects. Kudou responds with half-hearted punches to the shoulder.)

Kaito had assumed that Kudou would move back into his house once he got his body back, but apparently not. The detective met up one afternoon complaining of stiff shoulders thanks to cheap hotel beds, and in Kaito’s eyes that just won’t do. Kudou says he can’t go back into his house because it’s being watched by too many people (and also he can’t kick out the man who’s currently living there, for reasons he won’t quite explain), and if he can’t go back to his house and is living in crappy hotels, Kaito is sure he can come up with a better alternative. It’s the least he can do for the guy.

Kudou moves into Kaito’s guest room by the end of that week.

\--

The Angel’s Eye is kept on the thirtieth floor of an upscale hotel, right in the center of a roaming art exhibit whose total value is estimated in the trillions of yen. Naturally, this means that no expenses are spared on security. Lasers, cages, alarms, thumbprint and eye recognition to open any of the cases, metal detectors, and probably other measures that aren’t mentioned in the pamphlets…Kaito might have his work cut out for him.

Kudou doesn’t help Kaito get into the exhibit – rude, in Kaito’s esteemed opinion – but he does keep the exhibit’s patrons distracted long enough for Kaito to sneakily input his own data into the personnel recognition machine. And then Kudou goes to the bathroom right as KID appears with a flourish, vanishes the gem, and dashes for the stairwell. Even Kaito doesn’t know if the detective had left simply to avoid the chaos, or if he means to head downstairs and make a token effort at stopping the great phantom thief.

It turns out to be the latter. Kaito reaches his exit point five floors down to see Kudou waiting for him, leaning against the wall with his arms folded like he’s waiting for a date that’s stood him up instead of a criminal fleeing from a veritable stampede of police. They banter for a bit, and Kaito holds the Angel’s Eye up to the moonlight, and then they stop talking because.

The Eye.

The Angel’s Eye is glowing red.

They stare at the Eye – at Pandora, it has to be Pandora, Kaito is holding Pandora in his hands –

Gunshots blast through the windows.

Kaito is shoved to the floor.

Shinichi – Shinichi had pushed him out of the way of the gunshots, and – is Shinichi hurt? 

No – no, Shinichi is getting up, and he’s not bleeding. Small comforts. 

Kaito grabs Shinichi, ignoring how the detective shouts and struggles to let him go, he needs to catch those snipers, because can’t Shinichi see that’s not what matters right now? Catching the snipers isn’t as important as what Kaito needs to do. 

Kaito bodily throws Shinichi into the shadows, where the snipers can’t see him. He tells Shinichi to stay there and let him handle this. Shinichi wants to argue – Kaito can see how he’s already tensing up, poised to spring back out – but the thief presses his hands into the detective’s shoulders and stares him in the eyes and Shinichi sighs and nods once, jaw clenched.

Kaito relaxes. Walks to the shattered windows, holding Pandora in front of his heart as though it can ward away bullets. He hopes that’s the case, and it seems like it is; the snipers must know about Pandora’s worth, because they’re not risking a shot that might shatter the gem of immortality. 

Kaito cocks his head, shouts a few theatrical words, pulls a hammer out from nowhere, and shatters the gem of immortality.

\--

Shinichi comes home exhausted, but he pauses for just a moment before he heads to the guest room.

“Kaito,” he calls.

“Hm?” Kaito glances up from his computer. “What’s up, Shinichi?”

“…. Congratulations. I’m glad you found it.”

Kaito grins and nods. “With your help, detective.”

Shinichi snorts, shakes his head, and heads to bed.

\--

Kaito only cursorily wonders about when Kudou became Shinichi and Kuroba became Kaito. They’ve been through too much to stick with family names, anyway.

\--

Kaito takes a day off to celebrate and relax. It hasn’t hit home yet – that his mission is over, that he doesn’t have to be a thief anymore, that he’s avenged his father. He had expected more fanfare. He thought he’d be ecstatic, throwing a huge party and burning everything that tied him to KID in a nice big bonfire somewhere. 

Instead he stays in his house and talks for a long time with his mom, who promises to come home on the next flight she can book, and with Jii-chan, who spends most of the conversation sobbing wildly. And also with Shinichi, because while the detective hadn’t been present for most of KID’s long battle, he’d been there for the end, and that counts for something. With Shinichi, though, it’s more like Kaito rambling about whatever pops into his head while the detective listens. He’s not sure if the detective really is listening or not, because he stares off into space sometimes and Kaito’s going off about a flying fish nightmare he had four years ago which probably isn’t the best conversation material. But he’s there for Kaito while the thief burns off his post-heist post-Pandora-smashing high, and Kaito’s grateful for it. Shinichi makes for a surprisingly good friend.

Friend. Kaito’s friends with a detective. A thief, friends with a detective. It’s odd and dangerous and if the person sitting at Kaito’s table happened to be anyone besides Shinichi it wouldn’t go half as well – Kaito imagines Hakuba in Shinichi’s spot and suppresses a dull shudder – but Shinichi isn’t like Hakuba, or like the police. Shinichi pursues justice, and sometimes justice goes outside the law. That’s why they can be friends and still work.

Shinichi snorts at that and points out that having a common enemy is also part of it. Apparently Kaito’s been saying everything out loud this whole time. And Shinichi has been listening, at least to the parts pertaining to him. Whoops.

\--

The morning after, Shinichi makes an offhand comment about flying fish. So he’d been listening to everything. Kaito makes a mental note to watch what he says even closer from now on.

\--

Kaito’s friends – his other friends, his not-Shinichi friends – notice his sudden upswing in mood. Aoko sighs in relief and tells him upfront that she’s glad he’s gotten himself out of whatever funk he’s been in – which isn’t quite right, he’s just been busy with Shinichi plotting the takedown of a crime syndicate or two, but Kaito knows that because of that he’s been more tired at school and flaky with hanging out with his childhood friend, so he just nods and says thanks and tries to ignore how she keeps one hand on the collapsible mop in her desk. What, does Kaito’s good mood mean he’s more likely to pull pranks? She has no faith in him.

(Or maybe she just knows him too well, because by second period half the classroom is covered in confetti.)

Hakuba’s suspicious, of course, since he’d seen KID smash the Angel’s Eye on the broadcasts of the heist. He comes up to Kaito on three separate occasions to interrogate him about KID’s actions, and each time Kaito ducks him with style and a lot of colorful smoke. By lunch, Hakuba’s given up, and that’s a win in the magician’s book. 

Akako…well, she trails fingers down the back of his neck and whispers a few nonsensical words of…Kaito thinks it’s encouragement? Or praise? It’s unclear, but he walks away from the witch feeling thankful she’s giving him her version of a break for a little bit. After relieving the planet-sized and Pandora-shaped stress ball from his shoulders, he thinks he deserves at least a week before something else crops up.

He spends the evening with Shinichi and his mom, newly returned from wherever she’s been, laughing and chattering nonstop about unimportant events, and he can’t remember the last time he’s been so at ease. 

\--

The next morning, Kaito wakes to an itch in his throat and a small cherry blossom on his pillow. He chalks the latter up to his eccentric mother being an eccentric mother, and the former to sleeping next to a particularly pollen-y bloom. He drinks some soothing tea with his breakfast to ward off any potential coughing. No way is he getting sick right after his triumph.

\--

Shinichi spends most of his time in Kaito’s house, but not by choice. It’s plain to see how antsy the detective is, forced as he is to stay indoors lest someone recognize him. The FBI agents still come over, and the Mouri girl even stops by once to hold a (somewhat halting) conversation with her childhood friend, but there’s a world of difference between friendly visits and actually breathing open air. The Pandora heist had been the one real exception, but that hadn’t been relaxing, that had been work and snipers.

So when Kaito suggests that they go out for lunch one weekend – in disguise, naturally – Shinichi is more than willing to sit still for an hour and let the magician work his magic, transforming the detective into a commonplace man with a commonplace face. Kaito leaves with a surgical mask on, partly because he’s pretty sure he actually has gotten sick, and partly because he looks like Shinichi and it’s probably better that no one suspects any sort of connection between the pair. The odds of one of that Organization’s members being inside a restaurant in Ekoda seems small to Kaito, but eh, better safe than sorry.

The place they end up at isn’t particularly nice, but it’s cozy and in a quiet part of town. They order and chat and eat, just like how they act back home, except Shinichi’s face is glowing even beneath all the layers of makeup and Kaito’s rarely seen him as expressive and happy as he is in this backstreet ramen joint. The detective is dazzling like this; Kaito spends so long telling stories and jokes that his ramen goes cold when he’s only halfway done. He could spend hours with Shinichi and not notice, probably. What an interesting thought, that.

The only damper on the meal is that Kaito keeps coughing. Stupid cold, getting in the way of his day out with his best friend.

(Best friend…when did Shinichi become his best friend?)

\--

When Kaito removes his mask back at home, he notices a few more cherry blossoms nestled in the lining. He shoves them in the trash, faintly uneasy but not quite alarmed. His mother, skilled as she is, could never slip one past him like this, and it isn’t cherry blossom season. Where are they coming from?

\--

He’s at school, busily not paying attention to the teacher, and suddenly he gets a coughing fit so awful he’s forced to rush out of the room, because there’s something in his throat, oh God, is he going to vomit?

Mild concern turns to full-blown shock and dread when what comes out of his mouth isn’t bile or snot, but a cascade of cherry blossoms.

There’s only one person who could have done this to Kaito.

\--

“Akako!”

The red witch doesn’t seem surprised when Kaito barges into her space. No, she has the gall to laugh right in his face. “You seem troubled, Kuroba-kun,” she hums, and man would Kaito love to…well, he’s above murder, but he sure wants to do something to that insufferable smirk of hers. 

He settles for grabbing her arm and dragging her out into the halls and up the stairs to the roof, ignoring both the cries of his classmates and other students. He hears Akako wince a bit behind him. Vindictive pleasure settles in his bones.

Once they’re safely on the roof, he shoves her towards the fence and does his best to loom threateningly over her. “What did you do to me?” he hisses.

The surprise from being bodily hauled to a secluded place has faded from Akako’s face, and now she just looks her usual haughty, impassive self. His threatening skills need work. “Why, Kuroba-kun, whatever are you talking about?”

“This!” With a twist of his wrist, cherry blossoms come fluttering out of his pockets. “I’m coughing up flowers, Akako! And if you’re not the person behind it, I – shit!” Frazzled, hands running through his hair, Kaito’s sure he makes quite an unusual sight without his poker face intact. “Just – what did you do?!”

Akako stares at the flowers, entranced. “Oho, so it’s cherry blossoms, hm? I had expected roses, but I suppose love is a fickle mistress.”

“Love – so you did do some weird magic!”

“Why, yes.” Akako gracefully squats and plucks up a single cherry blossom. Spinning it around her fingers, she murmurs a few nonsense words, and the flower is set alight, crumbling to ash within a second. “Though ‘magic’ is not quite correct. What I’ve given you is a disease not found in this world.”

Kaito blanches. “A disease?!” If his mom or his classmates or Shinichi has caught some freaky magic illness because of him, he –

“You needn’t worry, though. I’ve tailored the disease so that it may only affect you, Kuroba-kun.” Akako casts him a quick glance and chuckles at whatever look has sprouted on his face. “Causing a widespread epidemic is not a wise strategy for a witch in hiding, you know.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever, how do I get rid of it?” He’s progressed to arm flailing, he realizes; he purposefully lowers his arms and attempts to appear as civil as possible. Judging by her expression, he’s failing at that, too. “Listen, Akako, I can’t go through the rest of my life spitting out cherry blossoms. Plus, what did I ever do to you, again?”

“Please don’t play the fool, Kuroba-kun, it doesn’t suit you.” Akako leans back against the wire fence, completely at ease. The breeze fans some of her hair, framing her face in a way that causes Kaito to remember just how many of the guys at school are in love with this demon. “The disease is known in its world of origin as ‘hanahaki’. It is an illness that causes those trapped within an unrequited love to expel flowers.”

Kaito is already flapping his hands again. “Yeah, yeah, I don’t care, how do I – wait, ‘unrequited love’?” That’s…what? Unrequited love? Him?

“Indeed. For you to be exhibiting the symptoms of hanahaki, you must certainly be in love with one who does not love you back. And thinking about them rather frequently, if you’ve expelled this many blossoms in such a short time.” Akako tucks her wayward hairs behind her ear with a smirk bordering on malicious. “She must be a rather dull creature to not feel the same way as you.”

Kaito is still hung up on the “unrequited” part and barely hears her. Aoko doesn’t love him back? But he could have sworn that she – 

“I can remove them, you know.”

“Huh?” That arrests his attention. “Good! Do something about this, then!”

Akako’s smirk widens, and if it hadn’t been creepy before, it certainly is now. Kaito needs to learn to think before he says things in front of this woman. “I have the cure, but the source of the disease is unrequited love. If the disease is removed, so too will those feelings fade.”

His feelings will…fade? Like, he’ll fall out of love? But he can’t imagine a world in which he doesn’t love –

“I understand you will need some time to come to terms with this, Kuroba-kun,” Akako hums, interrupting his thoughts rather effectively. “I will give you time to think about your answer. Meet me here again tomorrow, and ask for the cure then.”

Kaito blinks as she lightly pushes herself off the fence and strides towards the door. That confidence…. “What if I say no?” he blurts out before she leaves.

She casts a singular glance back, equally devious and…is that sadness? “Should you refuse, the disease will eventually choke you to death.”

\--

Kaito spends the rest of the day in a dazed state of contemplation. His classmates keep sneaking glances at him when they think he’s too caught up in his thoughts to notice; Aoko maintains one hand on her collapsible mop. They think he doesn’t notice, but Kaito’s not so shell-shocked that he doesn’t notice the world around him. He’s just…dazed.

It hasn’t really hit home yet, just like when he’d smashed Pandora, only instead of triumph it’s panic being held at bay. He should be panicking. By all rights, he should he panicking, or raging, or something, but no. It isn’t real yet. The fact that he’s got some magic flower-vomiting disease that’ll either kill him or erase his love isn’t real to him yet.

Logically, he should give in and ask for the cure. He’ll fall out of love with Aoko, but he’ll still be alive, right? That’s clearly the better option. Yeah. Of course.

It would never have worked out between him and Aoko anyway, he rationalizes. He is – he was – KID. KID, the international thief, the man her father has been chasing for nearly two decades, the person Aoko unequivocally hates. And while he knows he’s done wrong, he has no intention of turning himself in. Aoko would be conflicted about that, should the truth ever come to light, and he doesn’t want to cause her that pain. He’s also a coward who doesn’t want to tell her the truth, and he doesn’t trust her enough to accept him, so it’s definitely for the best.

Definitely, definitely for the best.

…. Oh, Kaito’s home. He hadn’t realized that school had ended. And that he’s been walking home this whole time. 

He walks inside, and apparently he’s much worse off than he thought, because Shinichi (read: one of the densest people Kaito knows) immediately pounces on him, asking if he’s all right. What can he do? He shrugs and brushes past the detective, fully intending to do his homework and turn in early. Really, what can he do?

Except that doesn’t work, because Shinichi grabs Kaito by the shoulders, steers him into the kitchen, slams an assortment of random foods on the table, and begins to full-on interrogate him. What’s wrong? Is he still sick? Does he need medicine? Shinichi has Chikage’s phone number, he can call her and ask her to bring something over (and Kaito’s going to have to look more closely into the fact that Shinichi somehow secured his mother’s number without Kaito knowing, but that’s not the issue right now). Shinichi can try and make rice porridge, he can at least manage that. Did you eat something weird at school? You’re looking pale, but maybe it’s a fever?

Shinichi in detective mode is kind of intense, Kaito thinks a full hour later, when he’s wrapped up in a sturdy blanket cocoon with the TV blaring a magic show he’s already seen and half-heartedly eating slightly burnt rice porridge. Intense, but not altogether unwelcome.

He coughs some cherry blossoms right into his porridge.

\--

It’s not like Kaito has any reason to hide his strange affliction from Shinichi. He’s already told the other about Akako, and though the logical-minded detective definitely hadn’t believed him at the time, Kaito knows he can’t ignore evidence.

He tells Shinichi all about the illness, and when the detective pulls one of his “you-can’t-be-serious” faces he spits out a few cherry blossoms right onto the table in front of Shinichi. After a moment of looking scandalized (apparently expelling flowers at the dinner table is appalling), Shinichi is poking Kaito’s throat, peering into his mouth, and generally making a wide range of tongue-clicking sounds interspersed with grumbling. Kaito’s throat itches every time Shinichi gets a touch too close; he very nearly coughs petals right into Shinichi’s face, which would have been both disgusting and mortifying.

The detective eventually caves, accepts the truth, and proceeds to interrogate Kaito again, because Kaito’s life is apparently suffering. He grills the magician on the details, everything Akako had said, everything she’d done, anything out of the ordinary. For the most part, Shinichi seems disheartened by Kaito’s testimony.

However, once Kaito gets into Akako’s explanation of the disease, Shinichi perks up a bit.

\--

“So she said – exactly – ‘thinking about them frequently’?”

“Yes…? Why?”

“So if you don’t think about the person, the disease won’t be triggered?”

“…. I mean, I guess? It’s not like that’s an easy thing to do, though.”

“Still, it’s worth experimentation. Speaking of, I should probably call Haibara, she might be able to whip up a treatment –”

“Please don’t, she might try and poison me.”

“I doubt it….”

“You’re trailing off, detective! That’s not a confidence booster!”

\--

So, thinking about Aoko makes the flowers pop out? That doesn’t seem right, to Kaito. Look, he’s even thinking about her now, and nothing. No itch, no sudden coughing fit. Akako had probably been lying, or maybe she doesn’t know everything about hanahaki and is just screwing with him.

\--

“Look, let me call her up, I’ll make her swear not to try anything funny –”

“Thanks but no thanks, I don’t wanna die!”

“Kaito, if your friend is right –”

“‘Friend’ is kind of pushing it –”

“—then you’re going to die if nothing happens anyway, so what’s the worst that could happen?”

“First, don’t ever say that, because you’re a trouble magnet and the worst will definitely happen if you say that.”

“You’re overexagger –”

“Second, she said she has a cure, remember?”

“Yeah, but your affection or whatever will disappear too, right?”

“That’s the trade. My life or my love. Sounds kinda poetic when I put it like that, huh?”

\--

It does sound kind of poetic, and exactly the sort of thing Akako would strike him with. She’s rather fond of her flamboyant love spells, and he more than remembers the voodoo doll – even thinking about it gives him a sharp headache. Unfortunately, this time no lucky snow is going to cover the magic circle; he has no choice but to give in. He’s going to die otherwise. And he does not trust the creepy little girl enough to let her take a crack at coming up with a cure. Besides, he doesn’t know how much time he has before it’s too late. 

\--

“…. I’m calling her.”

“Shinichi, did you even listen to what I just said? Akako already has the cure. I’m going to take it.”

“I’m not going to let you do that.”

“Oh really? And why’s that, oh great detective?”

\--

…. That look on Shinichi’s face….

\--

“You’re being asked to choose between life and love. I’m saying that this witch friend of yours is being a manipulative asshole, and I’m taking a third option.”

\--

Kaito’s throat itches.

\--

“I’m going to call Haibara, and we’re gonna find a treatment. Losing your feelings of love for someone, whether they’re returned or not…that’s just too much. I can’t fathom that. I refuse to fathom that.”

\--

Kaito coughs, and a cascade of flowers falls onto the table. Far more flowers than Kaito has ever produced.

…. Oh.

Oh.

The one he’s in love with….

\--

Akako scoffs at him when he declines the cure. Somehow, Kaito can’t bring himself to regret it.

\--

Being in love with Shinichi is an entirely new experience for Kaito. He had been in love with Aoko before – he’s certain of that – but he’s also fairly certain that Aoko felt something similar for him once, so he had at least felt secure about whether or not his feelings would be returned if he ever confessed.

Now Kaito is secure in his knowledge for the exact opposite reason; Shinichi is definitely not in love with Kaito, or else the magician wouldn’t keep spewing cherry blossoms every fifteen minutes. No, he’s pretty sure the detective is still pining after his own long-haired childhood friend, much as it seems like it’ll be a long time before they can get together. The Mouri girl is speaking to Shinichi on a regular basis again, but even the untrained eye can see how she holds herself at arm’s length. She’s still not recovered from the whole Conan ordeal. Sick and in love as he is, a tiny cruel part of Kaito wishes that she’ll never be able to get together with Shinichi, but the rest of him isn’t a complete ass and hopes they can be friends again, at least. 

It’s tough, living in the same house as the object of his affections, especially since he’s technically dying. The trigger for the cherry blossoms is thinking about Shinichi, and it’s kind of difficult to not think about Shinichi. Kaito will glance up from whatever research the detective has asked him to handle, and Shinichi will be at the table reading through case files (still so fast, how does he do it?) and Kaito will think about how good a person Shinichi is, taking on an entire crime syndicate like this, and then the magician has a pile of cherry blossoms in his lap. Shinichi will pass Kaito in the hallway and Kaito will think that Shinichi needs more sleep, and hello flowers! Shinichi will be peering out the window, watching for suspicious figures, and Kaito will think that Shinichi is stupidly handsome with the sunlight glancing through his hair like that, and whoopsy-daisy his cocoa is coated in pink petals now.

Trying to think about Shinichi in a negative light doesn’t do any good either, because Kaito has no self-control and his thoughts will inevitably veer in a positive direction. Stupid Shinichi being a wonderful human being. 

And it’s not like he can confess to Shinichi, either. One, they’re both guys, and while Kaito’s incredibly sure there are boys in Shinichi’s legion of lovestruck fans, he has no idea what the detective’s thoughts are on the matter. Two, knowing Shinichi, he’d probably feel guilty about being the reason for Kaito’s hanahaki even though it’s in no way his fault. Three, while the hanahaki is a nuisance, their main objective is still taking down Shinichi’s Organization, and there really isn’t time for sudden declarations of love in the middle of that nonsense.

For now, Kaito just has to grin and bear it. Focus on finding the main headquarters of the Black Organization. Hope Ai Haibara will come up with some sort of treatment that will kill the flowers without poisoning Kaito. Ignore how cute Shinichi is when he’s sleep and yawning into his cup of coffee –

Kaito irritably wipes his mouth and swipes the cherry blossoms off of his computer.

\--

Ai Haibara does eventually come around with a bottle of pills. She and Shinichi both watch as Kaito takes one. It’s nerve-racking, having those two stare at him like he’s some lab experiment, waiting to see if he chokes. Well, Haibara’s looking at him like that, anyway. Shinichi is visibly concerned. Kaito opens his mouth to fire something witty at the detective, and then he doubles over coughing, because apparently even snark triggers the flowers. Just his luck.

But…when the magician rights himself after his coughing fit, there are no flowers. The telltale throat itch is still there, but the flowers themselves aren’t appearing. Shinichi sighs, clearly relieved, while Haibara takes some notes and gives him the rest of the pill bottle. Two a day, she says, once every twelve hours. Okay. Kaito can handle that.

He walks her to the door while Shinichi goes back to his research on the Tottori area. She halts in the threshold, stares him dead in the eye, and informs him bluntly that he’s stupid for killing himself like this. He laughs and nods, because what else can he do? She rolls her eyes and tells him to be less obvious, because even a dense fool like Shinichi is going to notice if Kaito stares at him with that much adoration.

She shuts the door behind her. Kaito’s too busy gaping to do it himself, anyway.

\--

With everything else that’s been going on, Kaito’s completely forgotten one vital thing. Shinichi leans over his shoulder while he painstakingly crafts a farewell note and offers a brief, warm smile when the magician mails it off. (The coughing fit from witnessing that lasts a good seven minutes.)

Within a few days, news outlets all over the country are in uproar. “Kaitou KID Announces Retirement” is plastered in every train, on every news reel, in the papers and magazines and online. Theories start flying; some people say he’s got enough money now, so of course he’ll retire, while other people point out that what he did was dangerous, so he’s gotten scared and ran before the police could track him down. A few particularly vocal ones dissect KID’s note – which in and of itself proves real dedication, considering the police haven’t released the contents to the public – and they argue that KID isn’t really retiring based on a few odd verbs and such.

They’re the smart ones. Kaito had purposefully worded in the note in such a way that it wouldn’t be seen as completely out of the blue should KID ever return. It had been a calculated move; the Black Organization knows about Pandora, so they might know about Kaito’s group and, by extension, KID. Publicly pulling KID out of play after smashing Pandora might get them to lower their guards enough to catch them by surprise when Kaito storms their base as KID. Hopefully. Assuming they don’t suspect that KID was the person who stole information on Pandora months ago. Shinichi had mentioned that he’d stolen a bunch of folders to draw suspicion away from the ones they’d needed, but the possibility is still there.

Of course, Kaito had planned on leaving KID behind once Pandora was gone anyway – doing it this way is just one more way to undermine Shinichi’s Organization. And with Kaito’s illness, they’ll need everything they can get. Kaito’s good, but not when he keeps having debilitating coughing fits. (Thankfully, Haibara’s medicine has kept the flowers from resurfacing, but the coughing remains. She’s working on that, apparently.)

For now, though, Kaito’s content to let the mass media go to town while he relaxes at home. Aside from the Black Organization’s takedown, KID is completely gone. He hopes his dad can finally rest easy.

\--

Shinichi’s taken up the interesting habit of staring at Kaito in the most obvious way possible whenever he starts pulling his boredom-induced magic tricks.

Kaito revels in attention, and he’s long since gotten used to critics in the audience, so this doesn’t necessarily put him out. He’s just surprised. He knows Shinichi’s been in the room when he’s done this before – Kaito gets bored easily, what can he say – but the detective never used to watch him. He’d keep typing away at his computer or reading cold case files or whatever, never glancing up even once, and that was back when Kaito had been actively trying to get his attention. Now, when Kaito’s subtly trying to avoid it (because while he has steady hands, hacking coughs tend to ruin his concentration), Shinichi’s decided that he’s suddenly curious.

The detective is watching now, eyes flicking back and forth while Kaito pulls an entire arsenal of pranking material out of thin air. He’s trying to figure out where they’re coming from, probably. Kaito smirks despite himself. Confusing detectives with his magic is a favorite pastime of his, although usually the detective is Hakuba and there’s more insufferable grumbling. He much prefers Shinichi. Shinichi isn’t as much of an asshole about deducing his tricks out loud – well, as long as it’s Kaito and not KID – and Shinichi has the added bonus of being incredibly endearing when he’s concentrating. Hakuba just looks like an arrogant asshole when he’s concentrating. (He stifles the cough as best as he can.)

Shinichi’s really just so endearing that Kaito grins and flicks a rose at his face. It’s worth the terrible itch in his throat seeing the detective get so flustered – the red flower suits his blushing face. Kaito loves watching his façade crack; it proves that Shinichi is human, that maybe he’s an attainable mortal instead of some god of death or bad luck or something. 

Shinichi eventually cracks and asks Kaito how he’s doing it. He then spends the next twenty minutes sitting next to Kaito on the couch, so close their thighs are touching, scrutinizing Kaito’s every move from dangerously up close. It’s excruciating to have him this close without giving into a coughing fit, but Kaito manages to get through a few explanations before he’s able to politely excuse himself to the bathroom. He misses having Shinichi so close the second he gets up, but that thought is quickly dampened by a fresh wave of itching.

\--

Kaito keys in a number he’d hoped he would never have to use, one ear pressed to the bathroom door to make sure Shinichi isn’t close enough to hear.

The phone rings once, twice, and then a sleepy voice grumbles in his ear, “Kuroba-kun? What is it?”

“Bad news, Haibara-chan.” Kaito carefully picks up one of the cherry blossoms he’d just expelled. “The medicine isn’t working anymore. I just coughed up enough flowers to fill my sink.”

“Shit.” Haibara utters a few more choice expletives under her breath. “I’m coming over.”

“No, don’t!” Kaito winces; that was louder than he intended. He presses his ear up against the door so forcefully it hurts, but he doesn’t hear any footsteps approaching. “Don’t – I’ll come over there.”

There’s a pause, but Kaito can still hear her breathing through the line. “Why?” she finally asks. “Something you don’t want Kudou-kun to know?”

“Yeah.” Kaito lets the flower fall back into the sink and turns the faucet, washing the blood down the drain. “Something like that.”

\--

Haibara hypothesizes that suppressing the flowers caused a buildup that’s done Kaito more harm than good. She gives Kaito some anti-inflammatories and painkillers and sends him away, telling him in no uncertain terms that he needs to figure something out fast. She still disapproves of his choice, it seems, but Kaito also knows that she’s genuinely concerned. Whether it’s for Kaito or Shinichi is up in the air, but still, she doesn’t want him to die, so he’ll take it.

Shinichi asks him in a too-casual tone where he’d gone when he gets back. Lying to Shinichi outright never works – the guy seems to have a seventh sense for liars – so Kaito goes with part of the truth, that the medicine isn’t working as well as it should. He doesn’t say anything about the blood, nor about just how many blossoms were in the sink, because they’re getting close with the Organization and now isn’t the time to have Shinichi force him out of commission just because the hanahaki’s getting a little worse. 

Turns out not telling Shinichi is the correct decision, because even with just part of the truth he’s trying to convince Kaito to stay behind during the inevitable raid. Kaito refuses, of course. Shinichi is good, but Kaito’s got his magic and his card gun and his smoke bombs, all perfect for disabling without casualties, plus the Organization should think he’s dead, plus there’s absolutely no way Kaito’s going to let Shinichi go in there without him because Shinichi needs someone he can trust at his back and if the detective gets hurt it’ll be because Kaito hadn’t been there to keep an eye on the damned trouble magnet, plus Shinichi is –

Shinichi stops him there. Good thing, because Kaito had been on the verge of confessing. The detective sighs, gives him a quick analytical once-over, and mutters something under his breath that Kaito doesn’t quite catch. Something about stubborn assholes? Now, Kaito has no idea who he could be referring to!

\--

Hiding the truth from Shinichi is the easy part. Hiding the evidence is another matter entirely.

Shinichi is, thankfully, slow to wake up. This usually gives Kaito enough time to hide the flowers and clean up any bloodstains that have formed in the night. Daytime, on the other hand, is anyone’s game. After all, Shinichi is one of those detectives that can base entire cases around a scuff on the floor or a tiny scratch on a railing; if Kaito slips up even once, it’s game over, go directly to house arrest.

It’s painful and probably one of the most exhausting things Kaito’s ever had to maintain, but he keeps the truth hidden. Misdirection is second nature to all magicians – all Kaito has to do is feign boredom and set off a smoke bomb or wander away for a bit, and then carefully wipe away any specks of red from his person before he reappears. Shinichi will glare at him for disrupting his concentration, but he never gets suspicious. Why would he? He trusts Kaito.

And that’s what hurts the most, and that’s what’s probably triggering Kaito’s hanahaki nowadays: guilt. Their friendship had been formed based on mutual respect and the ability to be themselves around each other, hadn’t it? No lying necessary. No masks, no tricks, just a shrunken detective and a vengeful phantom thief. They’d clung to each other greedily, basking in the freedom of living without lies.

Now Kaito’s keeping secrets from the one person he thought he’d never have to put through that, and it’s awful. He hates not being able to tell Shinichi anything, even if he’s doing it for his friend’s own peace of mind. He keeps trying to tell himself that it’s for the sake of the mission, hunting down the Organization and finally giving Shinichi some real freedom and whatnot, and yet…even now, part of him itches to just go up to Shinichi and come clean about everything.

(The part of him that itches, incidentally, is somewhere in his throat. He coughs and hides the bloodstained flower before Shinichi can see.)

For the first time, he thinks that maybe this would all be better if he just fell out of love with Shinichi.

\--

He maintains that thought process for a good ten minutes before Shinichi throws a pencil at his head to get his attention and starts rambling about something he’s found, and the light is sparkling in his eyes and his cheeks are a little rosy from excitement and yeah, no, Kaito can’t regret falling in love with that.

(Ten minutes after that, he’s flushing a wad of bloody flowers down the toilet.)

\--

Akako corners him one day at school, asking him oh so sweetly how his little flora problem is going. He responds with a glower and marches straight into the classroom. It’s her fault he’s sick. He’s not going to dignify her with a response.

Of course, she knows anyway, because Akako is Akako. She sidles over to his desk, leans over, and murmurs that he’s running out of time. If he doesn’t hurry and accept her cure, he’s going to die.

Kaito scoffs and waves her away. Like he doesn’t already know that. 

\--

When Kaito comes home, Shinichi is crowing something into his phone with that look on his face. The magician shuts the door with his foot and sidles closer to listen to his deductions. The detective’s found something. Something big, something possibly game-changing.

By the time he’s hung up, Kaito’s more or less gotten the gist. He still waits around while Shinichi, breathing unevenly, stares at his phone and then back at the mess of files he’s made on the dinner table. He seems unsure of himself, like he can’t quite believe he’s done it. He’s also shaking a bit. Kaito reaches out and grabs his bicep, ignoring the cherry blossoms rising in his throat when Shinichi blinks at him with that dazed happiness.

\--

“You’ve done it, Shinichi?”

“Y-Yeah…. I – I found their base.”

\--

God, Kaito could kiss him.

\--

He doesn’t, but the mere thought has him rushing to the bathroom to choke on flowers. There’s more blood now. Too much blood. 

\--

It takes Shinichi two weeks to get a decent layout of the area and coordinate with both the FBI and his friends in the police department. It’s the most purposeful Kaito’s seen the detective in months, probably. When they’d been searching down rabbit holes for even a tiny clue on the Organization, many of which led to dead ends, there had been a touch of despair in Shinichi’s countenance, only noticeable now in its absence. Now he’s driven. He has a concrete plan in the works. He has a real shot at taking down the group that’s all but ruined his life. 

Kaito’s driven, too – he’s been working on new smoke bombs and crazy portable tricks to bring to the raid – but his morale is somewhat marred by the fact that he can feel how much weaker he’s gotten. The flowers are coming out of his mouth in more vibrant shades of pink, though it’s difficult to tell that beneath all the blood. He’s definitely anemic now, and he can tell. His hands noticeably tremble while he handles delicate tools. He’s unnaturally tired, going to sleep earlier and waking up later, giving him less time to deal with the evidence before Shinichi gets up for the day. Both Shinichi and his friends at school comment on how pale he’s gotten – Aoko even tries to slip him some of her lunch when she thinks he’s not looking.

He’s in a dangerous spot. As he is now, he may wind up being the weak link that kills the whole operation. Logically, he should back out and let Shinichi handle it – the detective’s capable enough, plus he’s assembling an armada of law enforcement. Logically, but the moment Kaito turned down Akako’s cure, logic sort of flew out the window, so he has to make do.

Thankfully, he’s got a partner in Haibara, albeit an acerbic and unwilling one. She comes over bearing a “new prototype” for the hanahaki medicine one afternoon, but she only says that for Shinichi’s benefit; both she and Kaito know that medicine can’t really save him now. What she brings instead is a bottle of pills designed to keep Kaito energized during the raid, enough to keep the jitters away. Another day, Kaito goes over to hers under the pretense of refilling his meds and instead receives a blood transfusion. She glares at him and grumbles the whole time, but they both know that going to the hospital would probably just end up with him being admitted.

He just has to make it until Shinichi’s enemies are gone. Just until they’re gone.

\--

“Are you sure, Kuroba-kun?” Kaito’s managed to surprise Akako; she tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear to hide her face and compose herself. “You are…fully prepared for the consequences?”

“Yeah.”

“Then…so be it.”

Kaito watches Akako walk away, poker face locked in place. After a moment, he slowly turns and begins his commute home.

There’s no going back now.

\--

Kaito doesn’t like gunfire. Gunfire only brings destruction. Death and injuries and general panic, a mad scramble to get away from the source as quickly as possible. 

A shot pings by his ear. Kaito ducks around the nearest corner, card gun cocked in one hand and smoke bombs at the ready in the other. Ever since the raid had begun, Kaito has heard nothing but gunshots and his own ragged breathing. He’s probably going to be deaf by the time this is all over. Provided he doesn’t die, of course.

Another bullet whizzes by, cracking the wall in front of Kaito’s eyes. Yeah, there’s a very real possibility he’s going to die. At least Snake’s gang was sort of small. This Organization is huge, much larger than anyone had seen coming, and the base is crawling with their goons.

Kaito tosses one of his smoke bombs, momentarily obscuring his vision. He hears a crackle of electricity and a muted whump. Shinichi calls out to him from up ahead, giving him the all-clear to move forward. He comes out of hiding and rushes on. Shinichi is tucking Conan’s radar glasses back into his pocket, waiting for Kaito at the top of the staircase. He still isn’t hurt, thank God. There’s a small smear of red on the back of his hand, but it’s not his. Shinichi makes some dry comment about Kaito’s state, which, yeah, he’s definitely looking more ragged than the detective, but he’s wearing his full KID costume for this and in case Shinichi’s somehow forgotten, it’s pure white and therefore easy to stain, so why doesn’t he mind his own business and go back to giving these fine upstanding citizens concussions via debris to the skull.

Shinichi replies with an honest-to-God chuckle, the first Kaito’s heard from him in a long while. Granted, it’s probably at least half-induced by adrenaline, but still, it’s so wonderful to hear. Kaito follows Shinichi, watching his six while hiding the cherry blossoms he coughs up. Just a little more….

They turn a corner into what appears to be a meeting room. Kaito throws a pellet of sleeping gas into the room, waits for the bodies to hit the floor, and then takes point, creeping in and sweeping the room. No fakers – the goons have all been properly knocked out. There’s a door on the other side standing open on another staircase. They don’t have far to go before they reach the top, and the boss of this whole operation. Kaito plans to give that son of a bitch a punch in the nose for what he’s done to Shinichi, but that’s for later. For now, he turns and calls out for Shinichi to follow. When all he receives is silence, he calls again, a little louder.

His response is a muted groan.

Kaito’s heart instantly turns to ice.

\--

“Shinichi…?”

A rough hand shoves a barely-conscious Shinichi into the meeting room. He stumbles over his own feet and collapses onto the floor, blood trickling from his scalp. Cherry blossoms rush up Kaito’s throat. He’d failed. He’d failed to protect Shinichi. Shit.

A tall man strides into the room, tossing aside a metal rod with his right hand while aiming the gun in his left squarely at Shinichi’s head. His hair is long and silver. Gin. The ice in Kaito’s heart boils into rage – this is the man who’d poisoned Shinichi. This is the man who’s ruined Shinichi’s life. 

More flowers bubble up Kaito’s throat. He can’t speak even if he wants to. He settles for aiming his card gun at Gin’s face. To hell with his poker face; this piece of scum deserves every ounce of hatred in Kaito’s body.

“Drop your toy, brat,” Gin snarls at Kaito.

Kaito’s finger tightens on the trigger.

“Drop it, or I put a bullet in this one’s skull.” Gin presses the muzzle of his gun into Shinichi’s blood-soaked hair.

The rage in Kaito’s heart returns to ice in an instant. Furious as he is, he isn’t so blinded by anger that he’ll risk Shinichi’s life. He slowly places his card gun on the ground and knocks it away with his hand. It skitters on the floor and spins underneath the long table in the center of the room, where Kaito can’t hope to get it again in time. Shit. He hadn’t meant to push it that far. He’s being sloppy.

“Good.” Gin straightens up, removing the muzzle from Shinichi’s head in the process. Kaito feels a split second of relief, and maybe he should’ve kept his poker face on because Gin sees that and aims at him instead. “You’re an idiot, Kaitou KID. You could’ve just bowed out like your little note said, and we would’ve left you alive a little longer. Instead you had to stick your nose in our business, with this….” A complicated expression passes over Gin’s face, some mix of disgust, hatred, and mockery. “This detective wannabe brat.”

Kaito’s fingers twitch towards his pockets. He still has some sleeping gas on him. If he can just grab it while the bastard’s talking –

“Oh no you don’t!” A bullet whizzes by Kaito’s face. The pain sets it about two seconds after the blood starts dripping down his cheek. Just a graze, but it still hurts like hell. “You try any tricks, KID, and I won’t miss next time.”

Kaito glares. It’s all he can do. 

“Hm, not much of a talker today?” Gin lowers his gun a fraction of a centimeter. Kaito meets his gaze – steely and predatory, Snake’s thuggery refined into a cold, precise killer. “Thanks to you and this brat, our headquarters is in shambles. We’re probably finished. I’d much rather hear you scream in agony right now.”

Without warning, Gin lashes out with his foot and stomps on Shinichi’s head. Blood flashes out from Shinichi’s head wound and begins to flow from his nose, dribbling over his lips and chin. Kaito cries out, then chokes; the flowers, the damned cherry blossoms spew from his mouth, dotted in his own blood. He can hardly breathe around the petals.

Somehow, Shinichi is still conscious. His eyes, hazy from the pain, roam to Kaito. Is that – is that concern for Kaito on his detective’s face?! When Shinichi is the one whose face is being smashed into the ground by Gin?! 

“What the hell is that, brat?” Gin is staring at the cherry blossoms, not bothering to conceal his surprise. “Cherry blossoms…? The fuck kind of trick is that supposed to be?”

Kaito tries to reach for his sleeping gas, but before his fingers can find the pellets he’s sinking, and now he’s on his knees, when did that happen? Dizzy…he’s so dizzy…Haibara’s strength medicine must be wearing off. Shit…he’s shaking too badly, he can’t get his fingers to move like he wants.

“Hmph. Doesn’t seem like it worked, whatever you were trying to pull.” Gin twists his foot, grinding Shinichi’s face into the carpet. “But I said no tricks.”

It hurts, it hurts seeing Shinichi like this, Kaito can’t – he can’t – the cherry blossoms come rushing out of his mouth in a torrent of pink and red, and he presses his hands to his mouth to keep them at bay but they keep coming, they’re slipping through his fingers and cascading to the floor, the blossoms floating in a growing puddle of blood, his pristine white gloves are mottled with crimson, he can’t, he needs –

Shaking fingers reach into a hidden pocket in his jacket and pull out a tiny, ornate vial. Akako’s cure. He’d asked for it the day before the raid, as a last resort. He doesn’t want to use it, but better to live and not love Shinichi than die and cause his detective grief. He opens it, brings it towards his mouth –

“I’ll take that, if ya don’t mind.”

A brutish hand arrests his wrist and swipes the vial from his hand. Kaito’s yelp morphs into a bloody, hoarse scream. There’s another one behind him, a square-faced brick house disguised as a man, and he’s taken the cure from him. As Kaito watches in undisguised horror, the bastard tosses it over his shoulder. The vial shatters on impact. 

“You idiot, that could’ve been a bomb!” Gin snarls

“Sorry, bro. Thought it might be medicine or somethin’.”

The cure’s gone. Kaito’s last resort, snatched from him like nothing. All of the fight in his system vanishes, leaving his body to slump forward like a discarded old doll. Pink petals and blood ooze from between his lips. There’s nothing more he can do. There’s nothing…he’s actually going to die. He’s going to die here. And Shinichi’s going to die, too, because Kaito ended up being a liability after all. The man behind him and Gin continue talking. He tunes them out. It doesn’t matter, right? Either by bullet or asphyxiation, he’s going to be gone soon enough.

“K-Kaito….”

Kaito’s eyes flicker upwards to meet Shinichi’s. He tries to apologize, tries to explain himself to his detective, and all that comes out of his mouth is a clot of bloody blossoms. 

“Kaito….” Even now, face swelling and pressed beneath a bastard’s heel, Shinichi is staring at Kaito with resolve in his gaze. He hasn’t given up. He hasn’t….

Ha. How can he stay down and defeated when Shinichi is looking at him like that? Kaito’s been too focused on his hanahaki, on his weakness. Giving up just isn’t his style. 

If he’s going to go out anyway, might as well go out with a bang.

Kaito slips one hand into his pocket.

Time for the grandest show of his career.

\--

Kaito is fading by the time the smoke clears.

Gin and Vodka are out cold, bruised to high hell and coated with virtually everything Kaito had up his sleeves. A sticky substance appears to be hardening in Gin’s hair. No amount of washing is going to get that out. He’ll have to cut it short. Good. Long silver hair doesn’t even look good on him. Maybe it’s a wig. Kaito has a lot of wigs, but none that are long and silver. Maybe he should look into getting one – he could wear it better than that bastard….

A cough racks his frame. Only blood comes out.

Miraculously, he hadn’t been shot while he had been pulling his tricks. If he had, Kaito’s pretty sure he’d already be dead. There’s a lot of blood around him, though, and it’s definitely his. His KID suit is completely ruined. Good thing he has spares. He needs to look his absolute best for his heists.

Heists…? No, he doesn’t do heists anymore. Why did he think that?

Another cough. More blood.

His vision is tunneling. It shouldn’t be doing that. Or should it? Maybe it should. Kaito’s tired…bone-weary, really. Taking down those two crows had depleted all of his remaining strength and then some. It’s no wonder he’s starting to lose it a little.

A face swims into his line of sight. Shinichi.

There’s blood on his face. Shinichi doesn’t look good in blood. Kaito wants to raise his hand and wipe it away, but it seems his body is no longer willing to listen to him. It must’ve gotten up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. 

Shinichi’s mouth is moving, Kaito notes dimly. What’s he saying…? Kaito can barely hear him. Something about holding on? To what? He doesn’t have anything to hold onto, except maybe Shinichi’s arm.

Kaito chuckles at the mental image of hanging off of Shinichi’s arm like some floozy. They bubble out of his throat in wet heaves. 

Ah…shit. He’s losing focus. Shinichi’s face is going dark. He tries to get his stubborn mouth to form words, real words. He can’t even hear himself speak. 

There are worse ways to go than staring into the face of his beloved, he reflects. 

…. He’s kind of cold.

…. It’s hard to breathe.

….

\--

….

\--

….

\--

Kaito wakes up.

That in and of itself is weird to Kaito, because he’s fairly certain he’d been dying.

He opens his eyes a crack. No, he’s not in that room anymore. And he seems to be lying on a bed. And there’s something in his arm – he’s in a hospital. He’s been brought to a hospital.

He’d been wearing his KID suit, and some idiot brought him to a hospital. A private room, mind, but still a hospital. Which is very bad news. Unless…this looks like a room in Haido Central. The FBI pulls weight here. Maybe they’d kept his secret for him. He hopes that’s the case.

Kaito winces as he sits up in bed. His stomach feels incredibly sore, like he’d been running five marathons. He gingerly checks himself over – no injuries. The IV he’s been given is administering…he squints at the packages. Intravenous nutrients in one bag and blood in the other, both at least half-depleted. He’s not sure what to make of that. Either he’s been here for a while and his blood isn’t replenishing, or he’s been here for only a little bit and he’d been in much worse shape than he’d thought.

…. Where the hell is his phone?

He tries to swing his legs around to get out of bed, places one foot on the ground, and immediately withdraws again. His leg is giving out under something like a quarter of his weight. Best to just rest for now, he decides. He’ll make his escape once he’s a bit stronger.

The door to his room slides open. Shinichi walks in, armed with a foam cup in one hand, and makes it halfway to Kaito’s bed before he glances up and sees that Kaito’s awake. He stumbles mid-step and halts, eyes and jaw widening.

Kaito clears his throat. It feels rubbed raw and it hurts the second he tries to speak, but he muscles through. “Hey, detective,” he mumbles. 

Shinichi blinks twice. He strides up, turns, sets his cup on the little table next to Kaito – oh, someone’s brought him flowers, he’s not sure if that’s really appropriate given the circumstances – and then he turns back to Kaito and collapses in the chair that’s been set up next to Kaito’s bed. One hand rises up to cover his eyes. His shoulders are shaking. He’s – oh, God, is he crying?

“Shinichi,” Kaito implores, because no, Shinichi is not crying because of Kaito. “Shinichi, are you okay?”

Shinichi lifts his hand to glare at Kaito. His eyes are perfectly dry. “You’re the one who was dying, and you’re asking if I’m okay.” 

“You’re trembling,” Kaito points out helpfully.

Shinichi, oddly, doesn’t try to conceal it. “You nearly died, Kaito. You –” Shinichi sighs, runs a hand through his hair. Kaito notices then how unkempt Shinichi looks; his hair’s in disarray, his clothes haphazard, and there are some trophy-winning shadows under his eyes. “You nearly died,” he repeats in a whisper. “You were covered in blood…you stopped breathing…and you weren’t waking up…and it would’ve been my fault.”

Oh, no, Kaito’s not going to listen to Shinichi’s self-guilt-trip. “It wasn’t your fault, Shinichi,” he protests with a flap of his hands. “I should’ve stayed home, I knew I was getting bad and I didn’t say anything, it’s – no, look,” he interrupts himself, because Shinichi is opening his mouth to argue, “I’m sorry I made you worry over me like that, but it’s not your fault that Akako gave me this stupid disease, or that I fell in an unrequited love or whatever.”

“But it is,” Shinichi counters. His mouth twists as he hunches forward, curling in on himself like he expects Kaito to be angry with him. “You were in pain that whole time because I’m an idiot.”

Kaito shakes his head, bemused. Shinichi needs to start working on his guilt complex or whatever it’s called. “Sorry, detective, but I don’t see any evidence to prove that. Unless something happened while I was out?”

“Yeah, something did happen.” Shinichi is staring at his hands, refusing to meet Kaito’s gaze even as the magician leans down and tries to catch it. “I…I saw you dying, and I realized that I…if you’re not here, then….” The detective sighs, a quivering breath that visibly rattles his entire torso. “I’m not good at this,” he mutters off to the side.

“At what, Shinichi?” Kaito’s utterly baffled now. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen his detective this emotionally wrecked before.

“This!” Shinichi gesticulates at the space between them, suddenly wild-eyed and a touch frantic. “This – this! I’m not good at this! How am I supposed to look you in the eyes, a person who’s been literally dying because he’s in love with me –”

Shit. 

Shit.

“You knew?” Kaito whispers. 

Shinichi derails himself long enough to stare at Kaito, still wild-eyed and even more frantic. “I figured it out, yeah, because Hakuba told me you weren’t coughing too badly at school but when you were home you were rushing to the bathroom three times an hour!”

Kaito can’t look. He buries his face in his arms to avoid looking at Shinichi. He thought he’d been being careful. Turns out it’s impossible to hide things from a great detective. God, he feels stupid. 

Shinichi is still rambling on. “And of course I thought, ‘well, if the flowers are triggered by thinking of the person, and he’s not coughing when he’s meeting with Nakamori-san every day but he’s coughing at home, where I always am, then the one he likes is me’! But by then you were on the medicine, and I thought it was under control and that maybe you’d fall out of love with me once you got to know me –”

Kaito snorts at that. As if anyone could fall out of love with Shinichi.

“—but then the medicine stopped working, but Haibara told me she was working on a new formula so I let it slide, but that was a lie, wasn’t it? There was no new medicine, you just said that to make me feel better!” Shinichi’s head falls into his hands, where his fingers tug at his hair. “I should’ve figured it out then, but I was too focused on the Black Organization to give it much thought, and if I had, maybe you wouldn’t have nearly died! Instead we went to their base and I saw you throw up so much blood, so much – I’m a fool for only figuring things out right at the last minute –”

Kaito can’t stand much more of this, so he raises his head just enough to demand, “Please just get to the point, Shinichi. What did you figure out?”

“That your love isn’t unrequited!” Shinichi shouts back, the force of it propelling him into standing. “That somewhere along the line I fell in love with you, but I was too dense to realize it!”

….

….

For the first time in his life, Kaito’s completely and utterly speechless.

Shinichi seems to realize what he’s just declared to the world, because he drops back into his seat in a flash. His cheeks are flushing. “I realized I’m in love with you,” he repeats, more softly this time, “right as you were dying.”

“You –” Kaito chokes on air, tries again. “You – love me?”

Shinichi nods once, more of a quick jerk of his head than a proper affirmative.

“But that’s – Mouri-chan?” he offers weakly.

“I did love her, but there’s too much between us now. She can’t trust me, and I…honestly fell out of love with her a while ago.” Shinichi’s flush is darkening, and he’s starting to bite his lip. “She and I…we live too different of lives. We’re too different.”

“Speechless” isn’t quite the right word anymore. “Gobsmacked” is more appropriate, because Kaito feels like the sudden wave of information is whacking him upside the head and leaving him more than a little faint.

“But you….” Shinichi takes a deep breath, and meets Kaito’s eyes, almost helplessly. “You’re the only person I can be myself around. You – you’re one of the most selfless people I’ve ever met, and you bore your burden as KID so admirably I was jealous, and you – you’re just – you’re everything.”

Kaito buries his face in his arms again, but this time it’s to quell the rising blush. This is too much. This is too much right after he’s woken up from a possible coma. This is – yeah, this is probably just a hallucination caused by inhaling too much pollen from the cherry blossoms – the cherry blossoms –

Wait a second.

“Why am I not vomiting?” Kaito blurts out, because apparently all of his finesse flies right out the window where Shinichi is concerned.

Shinichi seems equal amounts annoyed and grateful for the distraction. “The hanahaki disease can only afflict those in an unrequited love. Once it’s requited, it goes away. For good, it seems. I tracked down your witch friend and asked her myself.”

For Shinichi to have gone out of his way to find Akako, and for him to have succeeded at finding Akako, Kaito may have been unconscious for a while. “How long have I been out?”

“Two days.”

Okay. Two days. Akako must’ve let herself be found, then. And Kaito isn’t going to be vomiting flowers anymore. Good. That’s good.

Kaito thinks his heart is going to beat itself right out of his chest, but he’s good.

“So, uh....” Shinichi coughs once into his fist. He’s trying to play it cool, Kaito can tell, but the flush across his cheekbones is kind of giving him away. “Logically, I already know your answer, but…I’d still like to hear it. If you don’t mind humoring me.”

“Answer?” Kaito repeats dumbly. 

“Technically speaking, I’ve just confessed romantic feelings for you,” replies the detective, ever the reasonable one. “Given the hanahaki disease, I’m aware of what your response would be, but I’m only human.”

“Ah.” Kaito closes his eyes, takes a moment to compose himself. This isn’t really how he would’ve pictured confessing to his detective, but then again, he hadn’t really pictured it at all since doing so would have resulted in choking on flowers. “All right. Shinichi, I am very much in love with you. Once I get out of this hospital, would you care to go on a date with me?”

Shinichi doesn’t just smile; he gives Kaito one of his trademark smirks. “I’d be delighted,” he answers.

Kaito grins back giddily.

\--

He rushes straight home when he’s finally discharged, but he doesn’t stay long. Within an hour he’s back on the streets with Shinichi in tow, and he knows he’s babbling about something nonsensical and his smile is stretched so wide it hurts but he’s going on a date with his detective so he doesn’t pay any mind to the passerby who are eyeing him apprehensively. Shinichi is definitely the more composed of the two of them, although he’s laughing more freely and casually than ever.

They go to the ramen joint they’d visited before, and it seems like nothing’s changed. They still bicker about inconsequential things (they’ve just helped dismantle a nationwide criminal organization and they’re arguing about soccer teams) and Shinichi talks about old cases and Kaito talks about magic shows. Shinichi’s still a snarky bastard. Kaito still gets too enraptured by Shinichi to pay attention to his food.

The difference is that now, Shinichi notices. And he’s doing the same, though with more of an “I-can’t-believe-this-is-my-life-how-did-I-get-so-blessed” expression. Which is, in Kaito’s completely unbiased opinion, one of the cutest things he’s ever seen. He can’t help himself from reaching out over the table and giving Shinichi’s hand a light squeeze. His detective flushes, but he does the same, albeit with a slight duck of his head.

Kaito proceeds to ruin the moment by flicking his chopsticks wrapper at Shinichi’s forehead, which lands in Shinichi’s broth. The bickering starts up again.

They’re both smiling and laughing.

Same old, same old.

\--

“So I just had a thought.”

“Do tell.” Shinichi shifts slightly on the couch, forcing Kaito to lift his head while he got more comfortable. “And if it’s about dinner, we agreed it was your turn. No take-backs.”

“Yeah, I know.” When Shinichi’s finally settled again, Kaito lets his head fall back onto Shinichi’s shoulder. They’re half-cuddling on Shinichi’s couch, the detective reading and the magician plotting a new magic trick. It’s been a few weeks since everything went down, but something’s still bothering Kaito. “About the hanahaki.”

Shinichi’s shoulder tenses under Kaito’s cheek. Kaito bumps his shoulder into Shinichi’s arm to get him to loosen up, which he slowly does. “What about it?” he asks carefully.

“You said you think you were in love with me for a while before you actually realized it, right?”

“Yes…. Why?”

“I was just thinking, how does the hanahaki figure out when the love isn’t unrequited anymore?” Kaito tilts his head back, curling his lip in a thoughtful pout. “Is it the realization that triggers it?”

“…. So you don’t remember.” Shinichi sighs and sets his book to the side. Kaito raises his eyebrows at his boyfriend’s tone; is that disappointment, or is he just imagining things? “To be fair, I’m not sure if what I did was right or not, but I was panicking.”

“Oh my God what did you do.”

“I thought along the same lines as you,” Shinichi admits, and oh, that’s interesting, his ears are turning red. “But even after I’d figured myself out, you were still coughing up blood. So I thought, maybe the flowers…needed more substantial proof?”

“Shinichi what did you do.”

“…. God, this is going to sound terrible.”

“Look, you’ve already made me all concerned, so might as well spit it out.”

“…. I, uh…kissed you?”

Kaito’s brain stutters to a halt.

“And it seems like it worked, actually, because you stopped coughing after that.” Shinichi is mumbling, avoiding Kaito’s eyes. “But I thought it would be weird if I just mentioned that out of the blue, and maybe you’d get mad at me – see, I was right, you’re mad.”

Kaito’s jumped off the couch and started pacing around the coffee table, brows furrowed. “So we’ve had our first kiss?” he checks.

“Technically, yes.”

With a hearty wail, Kaito flings himself back onto the couch, nearly bowling Shinichi over. “Nooo! I refuse to accept that!”

“Yes, I know, I overstepped, I’m –”

“That’s not what I care about, you idiot!” Kaito shoves himself off Shinichi to settle himself more comfortably, face buried in Shinichi’s shoulder in such a way that he can’t see his detective. “I was all bloody and disgusting! And unconscious! That’s a terrible first kiss! I want a do-over!”

“…. Right now?”

A pause. Kaito screeches and scrambles up. “What?! You –”

Shinichi shrugs one shoulder and glances off to the side, the very picture of casualness. Except, yeah, his ears are still flaming red. “Why not? I mean, you’re right, it was kind of a terrible first kiss.”

Kaito gapes at his boyfriend for a full ten seconds before he groans. “God, you’re infuriating,” he grumbles.

“Huh?”

“Acting all calm just ‘cause you were awake for our first kiss….” Kaito shifts closer, staring hard at the detective and trying desperately not to let his eyes wander a little bit lower.

Shinichi, in response, places one hand on the back of Kaito’s neck and drags him closer, so close they’re practically breathing the same air, and Kaito’s definitely dreaming or about to die, yeah, this is just a crazy fantasy. “I thought you said this was a do-over, though?” he murmurs.

That’s about all Kaito can stand. He presses in closer, and his lips touch Shinichi’s, and Shinichi kisses him back, and it’s short and sweet and perfect and Kaito’s never been happier than he is right now, in a warm home, sharing a kiss with the person he loves. 

When he pulls back, Shinichi’s face is the darkest crimson Kaito’s ever seen it.

“Aww!” Kaito reaches out and pokes Shinichi’s cheeks, grinning. “He really does like me!”

Shinichi jabs him in the side.

Kaito responds by leaning in and kissing him again.

A life not loving Shinichi…yeah, he really wouldn’t have traded this for anything.

**Author's Note:**

> I always welcome constructive criticism, so please feel free.  
> You can find me at my tumblr, [kxlinthesky](http://kxlinthesky.tumblr.com/).  
> Thank you for reading!


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